After the Coronation
by grayautumnsky13
Summary: Written for Happy Ending Week- Once Regina gets the happy ending she allowed herself to want for herself, she gets the one she wouldn't even dare wish for.


Taking a breath, Regina closed the door behind herself, kicking off her shoes and rolling her shoulders as she made her way up the stairs and out of the foyer. She moved carefully, holding onto her skirt as she ascended the stairs–and when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but smile.

That morning she'd been crowned as Queen–an elected and chosen Queen.

Already, it'd been such a perfect day, and save one exception, there wasn't anything about it that she'd change.

In a lot of ways, it was hard for her to believe that it had happened. She'd spent years trying to prove herself–years of struggling against her inner demons followed by years of unleashing them. She'd cast a curse that sent everyone into a sort of limbo, giving her a fresh start that she'd squandered, and then, finally, she'd learned to make amends.

A little giggle escaped her as she considered her family and friends ready to celebrate her coronation at City Hall, and she'd almost hated to pause the festivities and leave them waiting, but she'd needed a little time to herself. She needed a few minutes to process everything that had happened, time to relish it and savor it–and though she'd never actually admit it, time to wonder how things might have been different had Robin lived. So, she'd made a flimsy excuse and told everyone that she wanted to go home and change into something more comfortable and sensible; and while everyone knew that she could have easily changed her clothes using magic, no one questioned it. They'd just nodded and told her not to be too long, promising to wait for her before letting the reception begin.

Her throat tightened at the thought of him, standing there at the front of the crowd beside her son, watching as she knelt down and allowed Snow to crown her. She imagined his smile–warm and bright–as she turned to face the crowd, and she pictured him, scooping her up and spinning her around as he told her that he was proud of her.

Taking a breath, she looked away from the mirror, slowly ascending the stairs as thoughts of Robin flooded her–his sparking eyes and dimpled smile, the way his arms felt when they wrapped around her, and the softness of his voice when he told her that he loved her.

She felt tears welling in her eyes as she reached the top of the stairs, and drawing in another breath, she pushed all thoughts of him away–and then a smile edged onto her lips as she gave him one final thought, as she considered how proud he'd be of the person she'd become.

She'd thought of him when she made the decision to cast her last curse, thinking about what he might have done if he were in her place–and it worked out better than she could have ever anticipated. To him, it would've just been the right thing to do, given the circumstances, and for her, it'd been one final act of penance. Of course, she knew that not every curse had been her fault, but nonetheless, it was something she'd started and others abused–and one thing that Robin taught her was that it was never too late to ask for a second chance.

So, she brought together all the fragmented pieces, mending the realms that were split apart by curses and created out of thin air to appeal to some higher powers' whims, and though it was a little confusing and a little messy, and much of the damage couldn't be undone, she brought them back together as best as she could, and allowed them live the remainder of their lives in peace.

Once the curse was cast and realms were united, she thought her part was done–and she was content with that. So, when Snow proposed that this newly united realm would need a leader, she hadn't even considered herself. She'd resigned herself to the fact that not everyone could get past her sins, and while they'd somehow managed to forgive her, they wouldn't be able to trust her.

And that was okay. Forgiveness was all she'd wanted.

She'd tuned out of the conversations about electing a leader. Snow White seemed the natural fit, and she supported that–it seemed selfish to ask for any more.

Instead, she busied herself with helping people to adjust to live in Storybrooke. She focused her attention on her family–after all, they were the real prize.

She helped Henry and Ella find an apartment and jumped at the chance to teach Lucy to ride and care for horses. Roland found his way back to her and she took immense pleasure if spoiling him with his favorite meals and desserts, despite the fact that he was a grown adult. Robyn asked her to help plan her wedding and put her in charge of keeping Zelena under control, and there was another version of Henry running around Storybrooke that she couldn't help but love.

She was happy–happier than she had any right to be–and that was enough.

Then, Snow had knocked on her door one morning, giddy and beaming as she explained the election results had been counted–and they'd elected _her_.

Everything that happened after that was a blur–from that moment on her doorstep to the moment Snow set her crown atop her head–and all throughout, she reminded herself that what she had was far more than she deserved, and wishing for anything else would be selfish.

Reaching behind herself she undoes the clasp at the back of her dress, sighing in relief as she heavy fabric loosens around her shoulders, and as she lifts the crown from her head, careful not to mess up her hair, she stiffens at the realization that she's not alone.

"I was wondering when you'd show up." She freezes at the sound of _his voice_ , her heart aching as a little laugh escapes him. "Though, waiting a few hours is _nothing_ in comparison to–"

"Robin–"

She breathes out his name as she pinches her eyes closed, a rush of emotion suddenly overtaking her. In the years since his death, it's never become easier to be reminded of him. So many times over the years, there'd been countless times she thought she saw him in a crowd or heard his voice calling her name, and sometimes, she even felt him near her. But each and every time, it was nothing more than her emotions toying with her–and each and every time, that realization knocked the wind out of her.

"Hey–" She tenses as a hand– _his_ hand–presses to the spot between her shoulders. "Its okay–"

Drawing in a shaky breath, she finds herself nodding. He _feels_ real and he _sounds_ real, and desperately, she wants to believe that. "Robin," she says again, her voice hoarse and barely audible. "You can't–"

"Can't be here?" he asks as her voice fails. "And why is that?"

"Because you're–" She swallows. "You're dead."

"Not–not exactly," he tells her, sinking down beside her on the small bench in front of her dressing table. "Open your eyes and see for yourself."

"I can't."

"You can," he tells her, his voice soft and full of assurance. "Come on," he says, nudging her, "see for yourself."

"But–" Her voice halts as her eyes press tighter. She watched him die. Years ago, she'd stood there, rooted in place and _watching_ him sacrifice himself for her. She'd held his lifeless body and planned his funeral, and after it, she'd pressed one last kiss to his forehead before his casket closed. "You can't be alive."

He sighs, and she feels his breath on her cheek as his hand pushes against her back–and he feels so real, so alive. "Come on, love, this would be a lot easier if you–"

Her eyes flutter open, and for a moment, all she can do is stare. He's there beside her, looking at her in the way he always did when she was being a bit too dramatic, but also in a way that's supportive and kind, in a way that makes her heart thump a little faster.

"You're… you're really here?"

He nods. "I really am."

"But you died," she tells him, still trying to rationalize it. "I _watched_ you die."

"You did," he agrees, a soft laugh rising into his voice. "It's complicated."

"But–"

He shrugs as his hand falls way from her back, falling loose around her waist in a way that was once so common. "I tried to reach out to you, but it never quite worked the way I wanted it to."

"I thought those were dreams."

"They were," he tells her. "Sort of."

"I don't understand," she says, her voice shaky as tears fill her eyes. "Where have you been all this time?"

His eyes narrows as he grins. "Like I said, that's complicated."

"So you weren't– I mean, you didn't go to–"

"The afterlife?" She nods when he supplies the words she can't quite find. "No."

"Oh–"

"I was somewhere in between," he tells her. "Waiting."

"Waiting–"

"For you."

Her eyes widen. "Me?"

"Wherever you ended up, that's where I was meant be." He grins as her eyes widen–that's such a terrible thought, that his fate was linked to hers, that he might pay for sins that didn't belong to him. But before she can say anything, a smile stretches across his lips and his fingers press into her hip. "Then, you cast that curse."

"Th-the curse brought you back?"

He nods. "The world I was in merged with this one."

For a moment, she considers it–and then, she feels her indignation flare. "But that was _weeks_ ago, Robin."

"I know."

Her eyes widen as she feels her jaw tightening. "Where have you been?"

He laughs at the accusatory sound of her voice. "Well, finding my way back wasn't all that easy. Unlike other curses, I wasn't just dropped off where I was supposed to be." At that, her brow furrows as she considers it, wondering if there are other lost souls from other realms, displaced and confused, and she feels a pang of guilt. It wasn't supposed to happen that way. But before she can dwell on it, his fingers again press into her hip and a grin edges onto his lips. "And then, I thought maybe it was better that you didn't know I was here."

"Why on Earth would you–"

He laughs, not letting her finish. "I might've stumbled upon someone who looked an _awful_ lot like you in the arms of someone else and–"

"Oh."

"It took me awhile to understand." Her cheeks flush, as she thinks of her other half–the half of herself she ripped away and tried to rid the world of. "I didn't want to disrupt your life."

"You could never–"

"I know that now," he tells her, his grin brightening. "I saw my children. I spent some time getting to know them again."

Her heart aches when she thinks of all the moments he missed. "You saw Roland and Robyn? They didn't–"

"I asked them not to," he explains. "Henry, too," he adds as a grin pulls onto his lips. "Both versions of him."

"Oh–"

"That's when I realized something was horribly amiss." His eyes narrow as she draws in a breath, slowly finding herself getting used to having him so close, slowly allowing herself to trust that he was real. "And, at another time, _that_ is a story I'd love to hear."

"Not now?"

He shakes her head. "You've got a party to get to."

"Oh," she breathes out, suddenly remembering that this was supposed to be a quick trip home to change and compose herself. "I don't–"

"No," he cuts in. "You're not going to miss celebrating you own coronation."

"But–"

"And neither am I."

A smile spreads across her face as he rises from the bench, holding out his hand to her. "Shall we, M'lady?"

Her throat tightens and she nods, slowly standing up as she places her hand in his, and when his fingers fold around her palm, she feels her heart flutter. He leads her out of the room and to the stairs, and then suddenly stops. Her heart beats faster as he lets go of her hand, and for a split second she fears that once more he's going to vanish. But instead, he circles around her and fastens the clasp at the back her dress–and when she turns to face him, she sees that he's holding her crown.

She looks down at it as he laughs softly, and before she can ask when he grabbed it, he lifts it over her head and slowly places it down, crowning her as he presses a kiss to her cheek. He takes her hand, giving it a little tug as he leads her down the stairs, her heart fluttering and her eyes teary, at the realization that this truly is the happy ending she'd always wished for.


End file.
